


operation red dawn

by antigvne



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series, all the good stuff lmao, war! ptsd! death!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7889029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigvne/pseuds/antigvne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"See, the thing is, she meets Riggs first."</p><p>(or, teddy, owen, riggs, and megan in iraq, pre-series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	operation red dawn

**Author's Note:**

> i spent my entire summer writing this and researching u.s. bases in iraq so pls enjoy
> 
> also who is to say this isn't canon hmmm

See, the thing is, she meets Riggs first.

 

She’s based in Mosul, and it’s midnight and she’s standing in front of the rundown Taco Bell in the PX deciding whether or not to trust the chalupas or just go to equally shitty Subway instead and she really, _really_ never thought she would be in the Middle East debating which awful knock-off junk food to eat after a ten hour surgery where the patient died, anyway, and yet here she is.

 

The PX is largely empty, most troops either asleep or on patrol, except for one wavy haired guy in a dirty t-shirt who is chewing his rather suspect looking Popeyes with a smirk, watching her try to make a decision.

 

“Is something funny?” She snaps, twirling around, and he laughs as he takes a sip of his soda.

 

“You’re new.” He says simply, and her eyes narrow. An accent. Not American. “You have to be, to be considering Taco Bell.”

 

“They didn’t have quite as many options in Dreamland.” She replies, turning her back to him, and tenses slightly when she can hear his footfalls get louder until he’s standing right next to her.

 

“Just letting you know, the beef at the Taco Bell isn’t real.” He smiles, offering his bucket of Popeyes. “Chicken?”

 

“Let me guess, the chicken isn’t real, either?” She smiles humorlessly back, and he lets out a sharp laugh.

 

“Absolutely not. But it helps if you pretend it is.” He nudges her with his shoulder playfully, and she can’t help but blush slightly, because this mysterious foreigner is actually quite attractive, all sharp blue eyes and strong jaw and rugged exterior.

 

He extends his hand. “Nathan Riggs, New Zealand.”

 

“Teddy Altman.” She introduces herself, shaking his hand easily.

 

“ _Teddy_ .” He repeats with another one of those sharp laughs, and she flushes, suddenly self-conscious because yes, _Teddy_ does sound a bit like a stripper name but it was twenty times better than _Theodora_. “An absolute pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

So she and Nathan becomes friends, kind of, with a lot of playful bantering over surgeries and trading quips over lunch. Riggs is a damn good cardiothoracic surgeon, but he’s risky and dangerous in a way that Teddy is not, and never has been. Yes, they argue, and there’s yelling and swearing and she won’t speak to him for days on end but they always end up making up, sitting together at two in the morning with Subway from the PX, looking up at the stars and talking about anything they can think of.

 

He tells her about a girl he’s with who’s stationed in Baghdad, his best friends that joined up together, and his whole face lights up in a way that makes Teddy’s heart twist in a knot, remembering a time when _she_ had best friends and people she loved that weren’t dead and buried under tons and tons of rubble.

 

But she’s happy, when they end up getting transferred together to Camp Victory, in Baghdad. She doesn’t have a lot of friends out here in Iraq - she’s been much too wrapped up in her own head, not really completely sure why she thought this was a good idea in the first place - so she’s grateful that she gets to stay with Nathan.

 

They’re unpacking their bunks, right across the row from each other, both exhausted and aching from the long drive from the northwest, when the door to the dorms opens with a slam and a blur of strawberry blonde hair is rushing towards Nathan, letting out a shriek that is the most girlish sound she’s heard in months.

 

The woman is practically connected to Nathan by the mouth, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and Teddy blinks in shock, a bit worried that they’re going to go at it in his bunk right in front of her.

 

There’s a tap on her shoulder.

 

“You must be Teddy.” He’s tall, with dark red hair and bright, bright blue eyes and a kind smile that she can’t help but tentatively return. “Sorry about my sister. Megan can be...enthusiastic.” He laughs easily, and it surprises her to find someone who still manages to laugh like that, all the way out here. “I’m Owen. Owen Hunt.”

 

That day changes everything.

 

* * *

  


Megan Hunt is a whirlwind of infectious smiles and copper curls. She’s on her first tour, and her optimism has yet to waver. Teddy is still wary of friends that aren’t Riggs, to be quite honest, but she can’t help but like the young anesthesiologist. She and Nathan, they’re good together. He’s softer with her, not as sarcastic and not as likely to be a pain in her ass.

 

And Owen -

 

Well, she and Owen naturally pair up, in a way, considering how often Nathan and Megan have swanned off to do god-knows-what. She doesn’t mind, though, because Owen is funny and sweet and knows more about baseball than any of her other guy friends and is a damn good defender in their two on two soccer games, so she isn’t complaining.

 

“So, you and Owen?” Nathan finally confronts her as they lean against the canteen in the hot Baghdad sun, desperate for the shade and gulping down tepid water.

 

“Owen’s engaged.” Teddy rolls her eyes, handing the water bottle back to Nathan with a tired exhale.

 

“And?” Nathan raises an eyebrow with a smile, and she shakes her head. “You’d be better for him than Beth. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a nice girl, and everything, but…”

 

“I’m done talking about this.” She ends the conversation, a little surprised at herself that she doesn’t once reiterate that she and Owen are _just friends_. “How’re you and Megan?”

 

At this change of conversation, he grins. “I gonna ask her to marry me, Teds.”

 

She nearly chokes on the water she was drinking. “Oh my _god_.”

 

“Glad to see you so excited.” He scoffs, and she shoves him playfully before pulling him into a hug.

 

“ _Congratulations_.” She insists, squeezing him tighter because god, as much as she likes Megan, she can’t help but feel like she’s going to lose Nathan now.

 

And a few days later, in the early evening, the sun is setting and painting the desert and the skyline in a brilliant red and purple light, she and Owen watch him propose to Megan from a safe distance.

 

“They’re perfect together, aren’t they?” Owen smiles, and Teddy simply hums in agreement. “I mean, it was inevitable, that they would end up together. Everyone could see it, even growing  up.”

 

“ _Inevitable_.” She repeats dryly.

 

“You okay?” Owen places a hand on her shoulder in worry, and she swears it burns through her jacket and thin t-shirt.

 

“I’m fine.” She exhales, but she’s not because _her friend is getting married and is never going to be fully hers ever again. She and Nathan and their friendship was perfect, but he’s leaving her behind and so is Owen, she’s being left behind_ again _and her best best friend in the entire world is_ dead _and_ _and she’s stuck here in Iraq and she will never be allowed to luxury of Owen and Megan and Nathan’s picture perfect life, not when hers has been so torn apart._

 

“We should go congratulate them.” Owen nods towards Megan and Nathan, because now Megan is practically screaming, she thinks she can see her happy tears from here, and Nathan is laughing and hugging her tight and Teddy lets out a long exhale, closing her eyes.

 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

  


“One hundred - no, one hundred and _fifty_ people. Everyone we know, even the old guy who works at the dim sum place down the street.” Megan laughs, copper hair splayed around her head like a halo. “And the flowers! _God_ , I miss flowers, and just...things that grow in general. I want _all_ of the flowers.” She chuckles again.

 

Teddy hums in agreement, shifting closer to Megan on the tiny on-call bed, watching the fan on the ceiling whirl and whirl, not doing anything to abet the heat. Megan sighs, taking Teddy’s hand, running her fingers against hers.

 

“We’ll have to pick out rings, when we get back.” Megan turns her head to face the blonde, blue eyes sparkling. “I always thought I would want something sparkly, but maybe not out here, if we have to go on another tour, god forbid.” Her eyebrows quirk in worry.

 

“So dozens of people,” Teddy distracts her clearly distressed friend, her other hand not holding Megan’s own reaching out to twirl the redhead’s curls through her fingers. “Flowers, _everywhere_ , and sparkling rings.” She smiles as Megan’s features smooth out, agitation disappearing. “What else? What about the dress, or the-”

 

“Will you be my maid of honor?” Megan interrupts abruptly, still looking up at the dusty ceiling, and Teddy blinks in shock.

 

“What?”

 

“Be my maid of honor.” She replies nonchalantly, meeting Teddy’s shocked gaze. “I mean, I have girl friends at home, but not like you.” Megan smiles slightly. “I’m not as close to them as I am to you. Maybe it’s the war, or whatever. Or your thing with Owen.” At this, Megan nudges Teddy playfully with her shoulder, and Teddy blushes.

 

“Owen’s marrying Beth, you know that.”

 

Megan scoffs. “As if that will ever happen.” She’s silent for a moment, comfortable in that space with their hands linked, shoulders touching, blonde and strawberry hair twirled together. “We could be _sisters_ , you know. We could be a _family_ \- you, Nathan, Owen and I.”

 

“A family.” Teddy repeats, the phrase sounding so foreign. Her parents died years ago, and everyone else she loved was buried in the ruins of the twin towers. Teddy is first and foremost a solitary being; she cuts and runs when things get too hard. But a _family_ \- with Megan and Nathan and Owen -

 

“So?” Megan draws her out of her quiet musing. “Maid of honor?”

 

Teddy smiles, resting her head on Megan’s shoulder. “Yes, of course. _Yes_.”

 

* * *

  


She meets Beth when she’s on leave over Thanksgiving, and she immediately hates her.

 

Now, that sounds petty and jealous and vaguely shrewish, because Beth is sweet and innocent and a completely nice person, but she’s too blonde and smiles too brightly and wears pastels, cooks pies and teaches second grade and - and it’s like she’s out of some cartoon, or something.

 

It almost makes her angry, because there is no way in _hell_ that Owen wants to marry a girl who cries when she has to kill a spider. But she keeps that fake smile etched on her face because Owen is still _engaged_ . He is _Beth’s,_ and not hers.

 

Never hers.

 

“So?” Owen corners her in Beth’s kitchen as she moves to the fridge to get more wine before they eat dessert, Beth’s father and Owen’s mother and Nathan and Megan chatting away in the living room. “What do you think?”

 

“Well, the raspberry sauce was _much_ better than the packaged shit back in Iraq.” She comments, filling her glass, and he laughs.

 

“I’m serious. What do you think of her?” Owen’s still smiling, but there’s a flash of worry in his eyes, a tenseness in his shoulders.

 

“She’s great, Owen.” She lies through her teeth, taking a sip of her wine with a small grin. “Really, she’s lovely.”

 

“She likes you, you know.” Owen assures her, and she smiles tightly. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me that you two get along. I’ll save you a piece of pie, okay?” He squeezes her shoulder before heading back to the dining room, the warmth of his hand still lingering on her skin.

 

She takes a second look at her glass of Chardonnay, before moving to fill it up to brim.

* * *

 

It was only supposed to be a two week assignment in Taji. Two weeks dealing with the fallout of an impending operation, then she and Owen were going to head back to Baghdad. But two weeks turn into three weeks, and three into four, and after that, Teddy stops counting.

 

Now, Iraq is hardly a fairytale. Teddy doesn’t particularly _enjoy_ living in the deserts of the Middle East, but with Owen - well, she enjoys being with _him_ , just Owen and Teddy. She notices that the letters and calls from Beth become less and less frequent as the weeks pass by, and it’s weird to think about considering she’s living in a warzone across the world from anything familiar to her, but when she’s with Owen, she feels like she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be. It reminds her of Mosul, when it was just her and Nathan, but this is _so much more_.

 

And she should have known that nothing good ever lasts for her, that she’ll always end up losing everyone she loves, because Owen’s convoy loses contact after reports of an IED blast and she’s ten out of ten, absolutely _certain_ he’s dead. And her first reaction is _nonononononono_ because she _can’t_ lose someone close to her again, not like this - she would rather die instead.

 

But then Owen’s not dead and she’s relieved but it becomes quickly apparent that he’s dead to _her_ \- to anyone, really. His eyes are all far away and he will barely say two words to her anymore and she thinks, as they move back to Baghdad, that Owen shutting her out is even more painful than when she thought he was dead.

 

* * *

  


The night is hot, still hovering around the mid 90s even past one in the morning, the humidity pretty much feels like she’s swimming in a hot tub all night, and yet somehow inside, with the stink of sweat and blood, manages to be even worse.

 

“Rough day?” Riggs sits down in the warm sand next to her, a case of the shittiest beer this side of the Euphrates in one hand and a bottle of cheap Arak in the other. She simply nods, reaching for a warm beer which she gulps down without so much as wincing.

 

“Owen’s been weird ever since Taji.” She admits, reaching for another beer as Riggs opens his first. “I mean, it’s normal - survivor’s guilt and everything, but he won’t talk to me about it.” _He’s pulling away from me_ , she silent adds, _and I might just lose him forever._

 

Riggs doesn’t answer right away, and instead takes a long drink of beer, coughing a little at the taste. “Megan and I...I don’t know what we’re doing, either. It’s almost time to either sign up for another tour or leave and all of a sudden she wants to be discharged and move back to Washington and start a family.”

 

“ _Fuck_ .” It’s the only thing she can think of to say, because of course she knew Megan wanted the whole nine yards of domesticity and _of course_ she knew that Nathan was definitely not ready for any of that, as much as he loved her, but she didn’t think that it was ever a source of contention between them. I mean, Megan confided in her that they had been arguing more recently, but never stated about what, and Teddy assumed it was about her impending discharge, not something so serious.

 

“I’ll drink to that.” He laughs darkly, taking a swig of the arak before handing it to her. Soon enough, she’s flat on her ass, the most drunk she’s been since med school, probably, staring at up at the stars with Nathan and it reminds her of months ago, back in Mosul, where it was just them and there were no Hunt siblings to cause them so much pain.

 

“There’s Cassiopeia.” She slurs, pointing wildly at the ‘W’ in the sky. “Hung upside down in the sky with her skirts around her head ‘cause she was such a bitch.”

 

“Orion, chasin’ Scorpio..” He gestures with his beer at the hunter above them, twinkling in the night.

 

“Mmhmm, chase that fucking bug.” She encourages, forcing herself into an unsteady seated position, pressed up against Riggs. “We’re so drunk, aren’t we?”

 

“Fucking hammered.” Riggs agrees with a quiet laugh, putting his arm around her, and she sighs happily, tiredly curling into him. “I’ve missed this.”

 

“I’ve missed this, too.” She admits softly, allowing her head to droop onto his shoulder. A cool breeze finally picks up, rippling through her long hair, and she makes a small noise of contentment because everything has been so shitty lately, it was nice to finally just _be_ with Nathan, who feels strong and safe and smells a little like beer but a lot like sand and whatever that cheap shampoo he gets in his care package from Owen’s mom is.

 

She looks up at Nathan, about to thank him for just being _here, with her_ , but his face is nice and close and Teddy can see her own reflection in his wide eyes and his skin suddenly feels really hot against hers and for a moment it’s like someone actually _sees_ her.

 

She can’t say who kisses who first.

 

It’s a simultaneous motion, the briefest brush of lips together, and she doesn’t even realize what happened until a moment later when their foreheads are pressed together, and she unconciously licks her lips, allowing herself to take a deep breath with him.

 

It’s all tongue and teeth, immediately feverish, and his mouth silences her quiet whimper when he nips at her bottom lip. His hands tangle in her hair, pushing their mouths even closer together, while her hands move on their own accord, nails digging into his shoulders. His fingers skirt down her spine, feather light, before settling on the exposed skin of the small of her back; the touch of skin on skin, the feeling of his body pressed completely against his, is enough to make her moan.

 

Her hips automatically roll down, grinding against his, and she has to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from gasping because she’s already panting and her skin is _burning_ and the ache between her thighs is starting to become unbearable.

 

“ _Inside_ .” She hums against his lips, trying to find the will to temporarily disentangle herself from him, because she does _not_ need to get caught shitfaced and dry-humping Nathan Riggs in the middle of the desert.

 

And then he’s pulling her to her feet and pushing her back into the empty scrub room, both stumbling, mostly from the alcohol but also from the growing pile of clothes scattered on the floor. Teddy almost trips over her discarded t-shirt, bumping into the table, but _he’s_ there, too, a hand roughly groping her ass as he lifts her onto the tabletop, her legs immediately moving to his waist, pulling him in closer until it’s finally just _them_ and nothing else. He’s pressing hot kisses all along her neck, heel of his hand pressed into her wet panties and she thinks she’s just about died.

* * *

 

There’s a hole in the top of the tent, she notices, when she’s lying on her back, looking up. Nathan’s got three fingers buried between her legs, his mouth on her clit, so for the most part she’s distracted, but even with heavy-lidded eyes she can still see the ‘W’ in the stars.

 

 _Cassiopeia_. So shamed and reviled that they put her in the heavens upside down.

 

Teddy laughs slightly to keep herself from crying.

* * *

  


“I love Owen.” She swallows, scrubbing her hands angrily after an emergency CABG. “And I love Megan, too.”

 

“We both do.” He leans against the sinks, lights dim, and he’s close enough to remind her of the feeling of his hands on her thighs, her hips, her breasts, and she flinches in agitation. “And they love us.”

 

“Of course they do, but they wouldn’t if they found out about what... _happened_ between us.” She clears her throat, pacing away from him. “We were drunk, and we made a mistake. _No one can find out_.”

 

“And no one will.” He squares his shoulders, jaw tense. “Unless you’re planning on telling them?”

 

“ _Of course not_ ,” She seethes, arms crossed over her chest. “Megan would hate me, and Owen would never speak to me again. Do you think I want that?”

 

“ _How do you think I feel_ ?” He rages back, taking a step towards her. “I grew up with Owen and Megan. She’s the love of my life, he’s my best mate, they’re my _family_.”

 

“Then I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She snaps, challenging him. “You know, this never would have happened if you hadn’t kissed me.”

 

“ _I_ kissed _you_ ? _You_ kissed _me_.” He scoffs in disbelief, eyes blazing.

 

“No I didn’t.” Her nose wrinkles in distaste. “We were drunk, okay? We kissed each other. And it’s not going to happen again. It’s _never going to happen again_.”

 

“No _shit_ , Teds.” He rolls his eyes, stepping away from her. “How fucked are we?”

 

The question’s rhetorical, but she answers it anyway. “Oh, it’s a one or a ten. Definitely one of those.”

 

* * *

  


Megan and Owen’s grandmother dies, and they’re granted four days leave to go back to Seattle to prepare for the funeral. Just as they’re about to board the chopper, Owen places one hand on Nathan’s shoulder one on hers, and it burns her like a brand.

 

“You two take care of each other while we’re gone, alright?” He laughs with a comfortable grin.

 

Teddy fights back a scream.

 

* * *

  


She wakes up with a sharp, loud gasp, inhaling the humid air but it still feels stale and like her lungs are getting coated in black soot. Her eyes pop open, desperately trying to force air in and out of her lungs again, but the tent is too dark and there’s no light and and _it’s too dark_ and the pressure on her chest is suffocating her, like the weight of the world laying on top of her and she can feel the panic creeping up her spine as she continues to hyperventilate and -

 

And when she stumbles outside, coughing violently, she’s surprised when someone places a hand on her shoulder. She turns around sharply, stumbling backwards, ready to push them away, but familiar blue eyes and wavy hair stare back and her.

 

“ _Breathe_.” Nathan whispers, taking a step closer to her, but her hyperventilating refuses to cease.

 

“It’s too hot, and dark, and it was like I was trapped and I can’t _breathe_.” She rambles, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the way it feels like her lungs are ripping themselves apart.

 

“It was just a dream.” He takes her face in his hands, forcing her to stop looking around wildly, as if looking for an escape, and to meet his eyes instead. “You’re _here_ , and you’re _safe_.”

 

Her eyebrows quirk in slight confusion, because usually, it was Owen to find her after she had a nightmare, having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the night, hunched over in the sand. They would just sit, silently, shoulders pressed against each other, until her breathing slowed and her tears dried and her eyes got droopy with sleep. But Owen isn’t here at the moment, but somehow Riggs _is_ , touching her and practically infusing his calmness into her body with his soft hands.

 

“I’m here, and I’m safe.” She repeats quietly, tears falling insistently down her cheeks. “I’m here, and I’m _safe_ .” She doesn’t quite believe it, though, but then they’re kissing and his lips taste like salt and _now_ she does.

 

He presses her gently into the on-call room bed, thumbs massaging the soft skin of her hips, lips delicate on hers, and it’s gentle in a way that she never really associated with him.  The last time was hot, and passionate and undeniably rough but _this_ …. _this_ is different, and she likes it.

 

She likes it, and immediately her heart drops to her stomach because she’s _sober_ and she _still_ likes it. It can’t be chalked up to cheap alcohol and loneliness, not anymore.

 

“Owen and Megan come back in two days.” Teddy whispers, swallowing hard, after. She’s laying half on top of him, his arm around her, fingers linked.

 

“ _Why do we keep doing this to ourselves_?” He says to the ceiling after a long moment, and she closes her eyes, curling into him.

 

Silence.

 

* * *

 

Megan and Owen come back, and it should stop, but it doesn’t. She becomes an expert at sneaking in and out of on-call rooms and empty tents, something she’s not especially proud of. She’s taken to wearing shirts with higher necks, because she doesn’t have the makeup to cover all the marks Riggs is so carelessly leaving. It’s not like she would ever sell Riggs out for it, but Megan and Owen would start asking too many questions, and she would have to avoid them more than she already does.

 

She hears arguing before she sees the couple, and her heart plummets.

 

Megan Hunt is not a yeller, but as she turns the corner, the petite anesthesiologist is practically _screaming_ in Riggs’ face, her own complexion red and tears streaming down her cheeks. Riggs can’t even look at her in the eye, shoulders slumped in resignation, and her blood runs cold because just at the collar of his thin t-shirt, half hidden, is _a rather large purple hickey that she vaguely remembers causing two days ago_.

 

They both look up at the sound of her footsteps, quieting, Megan’s eyes wild and Riggs’ eyes flicker in recognition before brushing past her, stomping off. Megan’s face softens when Teddy turns to look back at her, eyes welling up with tears again.

 

“ _Megan_ , _”_ Teddy reaches for her, completely ready to fling herself at her friend’s feet and beg for forgiveness and never talk to Nathan again, so needless to say, when Megan throws her arms around her, trembling, hot tears soaking her skin, she’s more than a little shocked.

 

“ _He’s cheating on me_ .” She whispers, and Teddy tentatively lets herself hug Megan, desperately trying to think of something to say.  “Probably with that bleach blonde girl working with MSF he’s been chatting with.” She looks up, face drawn in pain. “ _He said he loved me, Teddy. He said he_ loved _me, and we were going to get_ married.”

 

The tears overtake her again, and her hug feels like it’s _crushing her_ because she should tell her, right? Tell her everything and allow Megan to cast her out of her life and take on all the blame for this, allow her and Riggs to have a chance of being _happy_.

 

So why can’t she seem to say anything at all?

 

“I want my brother.” Megan finally admits, wiping her tears with shaking hands. “I want _Owen_ , but he’s in Fallujah for the next few weeks. I mean, there’s a chopper out tomorrow to deliver supplies, but, that’s stupid, right? To go all the way out there?”

 

It takes a long moment before she realizes Megan is looking at her for an answer.

 

“If that’s what you want, then you should go to him.” Teddy stutters, attempting to smile but she knows it doesn’t reach her eyes.

 

“ _Thank you_.” Megan squeezes her arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek, before bounding off to no doubt gather her things to leave for Fallujah, and when Teddy finally exhales, shaking, hands clenched in her hair, she realizes she’s crying.

* * *

  


And that’s the last time she sees Megan.

* * *

  


When she finds out about the helicopter’s disappearance, she collapses onto her knees. The sun is high in the sky, beating down on her back and making everything in the distance sort of hazy. It’s a heat that slows everything down, making the pain less sharp but more heavy, weighing down on her shoulders, suffocating.

 

She chokes on the bile building in her throat, heart pounding in her ears, because even though they _say_ they are optimistic in the search for the missing helicopter, she knows Megan’s gone forever.

  


Days turn into weeks turn into months. Owen leaves about two weeks after Megan’s disappearance (she still doesn’t have the heart in her to say _Megan’s death_ yet), and she’s silently grateful that she never had to look Owen in the eye and tell him that she was the last one of them all to see Megan, that _she_ was the one that encouraged her to get on that fucking helicopter.

 

And then there were two.

 

Nathan never gives up hope, something that Teddy _hates_ because Megan is dead. Megan is lost to them and if she’s not being tortured by Al Qaeda in god-knows-where, she’s dead in the mountains of Iraq and Nathan is only hurting himself more by searching for her so relentlessly.

 

It’s guilt, she thinks. He’s going on dangerous mission after dangerous mission to find her because he’s guilty. It’s like he’s _asking_ to die there.

 

She can commiserate.

 

Sometimes, in the middle of the day, she finds herself lying right next to them on his bed in the empty bunk. It’s hot as hell out (pun intended, because what is Iraq now if not hell?), the sun trying to fry you on the sand, and the fans barely work and everything just moves so slow you have nothing to do except think, which in a warzone, can drive you crazy.

 

The fan whirrs on as she takes her place beside him, and right then, it feels like there is no one around for miles and miles and miles, that it’s just the two of them and their thoughts forever.

 

“ _I miss them_.” She finally admits one day, and she isn’t even sure she really said it until she hears Riggs sigh besides her.

 

“She’s out there, you know.”

 

“ _Nathan_ -”

 

“I know you think it’s ridiculous.” He glances over at her, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen such sadness in someone’s eyes. “But she’s still alive, I can _feel_ it. I have to try, Teddy.”

 

“ _Okay_ ,” She whispers, managing to keep the pity out of her voice as she rests her head on his shoulder. “ _Okay_.”

 

She hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks - the nightmares, of both the towers and of Megan, are enough to keep her up for hours. But laying there with Nathan, in the silence and the heat, she can feel her eyes grow heavy with sleep. For the first time in what seems like forever, the weight that has rested on her chest since Megan’s disappearance finally seems lighter.

 

His hand runs lightly through her sandy blonde hair, and she manages to shove the guilt rising in her stomach down and lets herself just _be_ , because for a moment, she is with Nathan and she is safe and everything is going to be okay.

 

“ _How did we get here?_ ” He murmurs softly, the words floating up and hanging in the air. “When we met, in Mosul...that seems like ages ago.”

 

“Let’s just go to sleep, Nathan.” Teddy closes her eyes, turning away from him and letting his arm move to circle her waist, his lips in her hair. “ _Let’s just go to sleep_.”

  


* * *

 

On the day that she’s boarding the plane back to the States, she finds Riggs outside one of the empty equipment rooms, right where they first kissed, and Teddy can still taste the shitty arak on her tongue. The sun is sinking down the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with brilliant reds and pinks and oranges.

 

“So, you signed on for another tour?” He’s silent, won’t even look at her, and she has her answer.

 

“Shouldn’t you be on the plane by now?” Nathan finally looks up at her, and all she can see in his eyes is tiredness. She thought, eventually, that she’d see disdain - hatred for what they did, but he seemed to have shouldered all the blame herself. Which is shouldn’t have done, of course. If it was anyone’s fault, it was hers. If she hadn’t been so careless with Nathan, if she hadn’t urged Megan to go on that helicopter -

 

“What are you going to do when you get back?” He asks when she doesn’t respond, and she shrugs, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

 

“Columbia offered me my position back, but I don’t know how I feel about going back to New York.” She sighs. “I don’t know how I feel about much of anything, these days.”

He simply nods, turning away from her.

 

“Nathan, just...be careful, okay? Stay safe.” She raises her hand to shield her eyes from the fiery sun. “And if you can, _bring her back_ .” She hates how her voice breaks as she steps closer. “ _She deserves so much better than what we did to her_.”

 

“I know.” He whispers, placing a tentative hand on her arm. “ _I know_.”

 

And then he’s hugging her, or she’s hugging him. She can feel the tears pricking in her eyes as she buries her face in his shoulder, trying to hold on to him as tightly as she can. Once she gets on that plane, she’s all alone again - lost all three of them, and she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to function in real life again.

 

When he pulls away from her, she can feel his breathe on her face and smell the sand and blood from surgery on his skin.

 

“I…” He can’t finish his sentence. “Good luck, Teds.” For a brief moment, she thinks he might kiss her. He’s looking at her and she’s looking at him and her stomach flips in the same way that it did all those weeks ago, masking the shame. She could stay in that moment with Nathan forever, she things. What would happen, if they could let Owen and Megan and _Iraq_ just escape their minds? Would they take on the world together, or fall apart?

 

She steps back, turning away from him, unwilling to find out, and walks away without another word.

 

* * *

  


She’s been back in Texas for ten weeks when the phone rings.

 

And she’s surprised, to say the least. She hasn’t told anyone she’s been back in the States. She lost contact with all her friends from before Iraq, and she doesn’t want Columbia to know she’s back (they’ll hound her to come back, and she’s not ready for _New York_ yet. Not now, not ever). So home seemed as good a place as any to go, where she spent the last two months catching up on two years worth of TV, practically molding into the couch.

 

“Hello?” She murmurs, rubbing her eyes and squinting at the bright light of her phone screen.

 

“Teddy, hey! Welcome back.” It’s Owen.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

“Hey, Owen.” She laughs slightly, trying not to panic.

 

“How’ve you been? How does it feel to be at home?” He sounds jovially, and doesn’t ask about Nathan, _thank god_.

 

“You know, it’s…” She brushes popcorn crumbs off of her sweatshirt. “Good.”

 

“Well, I know it’s late, but listen, they’re looking for a new head of cardio at the hospital where I work, in Seattle? And I mentioned you to the Chief. He would love to talk with you, Teds.”

 

She blinks. _Seattle, Owen, Cardio_. “Wait, what?”

 

“The job’s basically yours if you want it.” He laughs from the other end. “I’ll give you time to think, but you’d be great. I miss you. And it would be fun, working together again, right?”

 

“Right. Of course.” She says, somewhere between sincerity and well concealed dryness.

 

“I’ll email you all the details tomorrow, okay? And hopefully I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up, and she just stares at the phone in her hand.

 

Was this divine intervention of sorts? Or some epic form of karma? I mean, she had fucked everything to hell with Nathan, Megan, and Owen, leaving her friendless and prospectless. And out of nowhere, Owen calls her about a job with him in Seattle. Were they friends, again, then? Was he still with Beth, or-?

 

 _One step at a time,_ Teddy reminds herself, taking a deep breath before pushing all thoughts of Iraq to the back of her mind, into nothing. She moves to grab her laptop, ready to book her ticket to Seattle.

  
Because come hell or high water, Teddy Altman was going to _fix_ this, damn it. She would make it up to Owen and more, if that’s what he wanted. And she was never, _ever_ going to think about Nathan Riggs again.


End file.
